


Inconceived When It Definitely Shouldn’t Be

by Buckets_Of_Stars



Series: Peter Whump Dump [7]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Robbing, Attempted mugging, BAMF Tony Stark, Complete, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Kid Peter Parker, Mama Bear Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Stark - Freeform, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Seventh Prompts Is Complete, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Young Peter Parker, dad tony, son peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars
Summary: It was a tradition Tony has started years ago: See a movie once a week and walk home, taking in the sights of the city and breathe the (semi-) clean air.Normally 10 year old Peter enjoys these times with his Dad, especially now that the man is so busy being Iron Man. But this time, something happened that destroys that happiness and neither father nor son will ever look at five minuets the same way again.





	Inconceived When It Definitely Shouldn’t Be

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!:D I hope everyone has had a great start to their week and that you enjoy this One-Shot! Thank you guys for being amazing, I love you alllllll!:D 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

* * *

 

The late evening air is cool around Peter’s face as him and Tony make their way down the cracked sidewalk toward the Tower.

  
Swinging his arms as he walks, the young Stark shakes the goosebumps from his skin as his blue jacket rises up his side. Gathering the fabric in his overexcited fingers, Peter tries unsuccessfully to zip up the metal teeth for a full minute before giving up, looking over at Tony as they pass under a dim street lamp.

  
His Dad is in step beside him, dressed in a way too formal suit, his red tie swinging in the breeze. His face is relaxed, strides even and his dark eyes flickering over in Peter’s direction every couple of seconds. The light overhead casts a dull yellow glow against his carefully styled hair as he pauses, Peter having to stumble a few steps back at the abrupt halt.

  
“You having some trouble there, kiddo?” The genius asks, lips twitching in mirth when Peter shakes his head.

  
“Nope!” The 10 year old says, popping the ‘p’ and wiping the spit off his chin when it flies from his mouth. “I can do it Dad! I’m a big boy just like Robin! Did you see the way he flew off the roof with Batman and kicked Two-Face’s butt and—and then him and Batman rode off in the Bat-Mobile and. . . “

  
Peter continues to describe the movie they had just seen in excruciatingly painful detail, fingers twitching together and waving around in his excitement. Tony, finally seeing his chance, grabs onto his son’s jacket and zips it up tight, the young boy not even noticing as he babbles. Grabbing into his father, Peter swings their connected hands back and forth, jumping up every few steps and letting Tony pull him in the air with one arm.

  
His happy shrieks of laughter echo through the tall buildings around them.

  
They walk a few more blocks, Tony stopping only once to sign a few respectful fan’s autographs, giving a flashy smile and a witty comment to the ever apologetic parents. Peter just stays back, watching the always shining lights of the New York City skyline get brighter with each passing second. Finally, just after the sun’s last golden rays trickle under the dark horizon, the tall shape of the Stark Tower comes into view.

  
“Thank God. . .” Tony sighs, giving Peter a smirk when the young boy makes a face. “I was worried we wouldn’t make it back in time for your bedtime.”

  
Chuckling at the long, drawn out groan his son lets out, the Billionaire reaches over and tugs him against his side, ruffling his hair and ignoring the squeak his boy will definitely deny later. They walk around a tall building, the sounds of heavy machines and deep baritone yells increasing as soon as they round the corner.

  
A Construction Crew has set up at the last turn before the Tower, their neon vests glowing in the artificial lighting covering the street. One older man, small wisps of gray hair poking out from behind his large ears, looks over at the two Starks as they come closer.

  
“What’s going on here?” Tony asks, keeping one protective hand on Peter’s shoulder as the construction worker a few feet away pauses with his hammer in the air.

  
The man lets out a huff, setting down his tool with a clang and lumbering over to them, his dull blue eyes almost hidden beneath his work hat.

  
“Water Pipe ‘ploded.” He rasps, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “Not sure wha’ caused i’ yet.”

  
“How long until it’s fixed?” The elder Stark begins to tap his foot, his grip on Peter tightening as his dark eyes narrow in annoyance.

  
The worker flicks his lighter on, the tiny flame casting thin shadows on his wrinkly face. His eyes, when he slowly looks back at the father and son, reflects the orange light in his black pupils.

  
“Not sure.” He says with a shrug, bringing the cigarette up to his cracked and dry lips. “Could be 30 minuets, could be 2 hours. Ju’ depends.”

  
Tony lets out an almost silent curse, looking up at his Tower just beyond the turn. Peter wrinkles his nose as the ashy smell of the lighter penetrates the air, the glowing tip of the joint sending small sparks flickering to the dust littered sidewalk with each breath the old man inhales.

  
Tony frowns at the smoke, turning away from the man with a small “thank you” before leading Peter a safe distance away. The 10 year old coughs at the acidity smell, leaning into his Dad’s touch when the man hugs him close.

  
“Okay kiddie, looks like we are going the long way home tonight.” The genius says, smiling gently down at Peter when the boy frowns.

  
“Why can’t Uncle Happy just come and pick us up?” He asks.

  
Tony just sighs, beginning to lead them both to a dimly lit walkway a few yards back, keeping one arm around his baby as the boy wiggles and the other hand on his wristwatch, fingers ready to call to the Suit at a moments notice.

  
Just in case.

  
“Because Happy would take too long to get here and the road is blocked off, so we might as well get some exercise and walk.” Tony responds after a minute, Peter trying as hard as he can to ignore the uneasiness his father is trying unsuccessfully to hide. “Besides, it’s a nice night and we are only like 5 minuets away from home. Nothing bad can happen in 5 minuets, Pete.”

  
But as they continue down the dark alleyway, the young Stark can’t help but imagine all of the horrible things that could happen in such a short amount of time. Tony seems to be thinking the same thing because his eyes scan the dark and his hands grip Peter hard enough to bruise, but the young boy can’t bring himself to care, leaning into the safety of of father as they walk.

  
Then the darkness of the shadows and the night sky enfolds them, and they are lost to the glow of the city.

 

* * *

 

“How much longer?” Peter whines, dragging his sneaker clad feet and kicking some stray pebbles from the path. “My feet are tired.”

  
The young boy can feel more than see the sigh that passes through his father’s lips, the man glancing back to the other end of the ally as he gentle tugs Peter along.

  
“Not much further, Petey, I promise. What happened to that little jumping bean I was wrangling earlier?” Tony asks, keeping his tone teasing even as he has to stifle a yawn himself.

  
Peter just grumbles, leaning even more against his father’s side as they finally make it near the ending of the street. Tony, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his child’s head, begins to fiddle with his watch, contemplating just calling the Suit to take them home.

  
He is just about to push down the dial when a noise in front of them has him pausing.

  
_Whistling?_

  
The high note continues for almost a full minute, the sound getting increasingly louder before it dies off in a sudden halt. Peter shakes, wrapping his arms around his Daddy’s leg as the sound of muffled footfalls starts to grow.

  
Then what Peter sees at the end of the street causes his blood to run ice cold.

  
A human figure is barely visible in the dark, the large form flanked by many smaller ones as they all slowly stalk closer. Peter lets out a small whimper, hiding almost fully behind Tony as the man gets into a defensive position, his eyes hard and his mouth dry. Finally the people stop, their hands holding unknown objects and the whites of their eyes glowing in the night.

  
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The larger of the figures asks, his tone biting and as sharp as glass. “Tony Stark and his little bastard of a son. Where’d his whore of a mother run off to?”

  
“We’re just passing through.” Tony responds tensely, ignoring the question and pushes Peter more fully behind him as the Leader smiles, cruel and sadistic. “We’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

  
As he talks, the Billionaire reaches down and taps his watch, the screen glowing a dull blue before it begins to count down from 5 minuets.

  
The Iron Man Suit is coming.

  
The Leader laughs, taking a step closer and holding what now appears to be a rusted up metal bat up higher in the air. The figures behind him echo his haunting chuckles, crowding around the two Starks and blocking any chance for escape. Tony snarls, trying to wrap his body protectively around Peter as the boy watches with wide, scared eyes.

  
“Oh no no no, you can’t leave just yet!” The Leader purrs, deep voice like sick honey and his dark eyes narrowed. “You trespassed through _our_ territory, right boys?”

  
All the dark figures surrounding them let out mumbles of agreement, crooked yellow and white teeth flashing as they grin. They shift in closer almost as one, weapons grinding against the dirty concrete.

  
“This is a street.” Tony spits, almost as though he was talking to a naughty toddler and not a psychopath with a bloody bat. “You don’t own a fucking street.”

  
The Leader snickers, tilting his head to the side and begins to tramp around the two Starks, hunching over and eyeballing Peter like a hunter. His bat scrapes the ground, the sound like a torture filled shriek. Tony immediately covers his child with his body, a deep rumble echoing off the Arc Reactor barely visible through his shirt.

  
“Think again! We own this whole section of the town buddy, and we enforce our rules around here. . . “ The Leader trails off, licking his lips and reaches a hand out in Peter’s direction, the young boy shrinking back in fear.

  
“Don’t fucking touch him!” Tony snarls, hitting the man’s dirty fingers away from his boy and immediately pulling him into his arms.

  
Peter cries, burying his red face in his Dad’s chest and holding onto the Billionaire’s shirt with a white knuckles grip. Tony gentle shushes him, glaring at The Leader so hard that his head begins to pound.

  
The Leader narrows his eyes back, flicking one finger in a quick gesture and leaning back on his bat. The other members creep closer still, their breathes hot on Peter’s neck and reeking like a dying animal. Their eyes are red and cruel, lips blistered and cracked around the edges, long fingers stretching out and curling like claws.

  
“What do you want?” Tony asks, fingers slowly curling around his wristwatch and his enraged eyes flickering down to look at the time left.

  
The Leader doesn’t seem to notice the motion, too caught up in leering down at a terrified Peter as the youngest Stark curls up tighter in his father’s arms. His large doe eyes are squeezed tight in fright and Tony feels a rage flare up inside up that makes it hard to breathe.

  
“Oh you know,” The Leader says, shrugging his broad shoulders in a fake show of nonchalance. “The usual, cash, credit card, whatever you got we want.”

  
Tony stalls before answering, glancing down discreetly at the still lit up watch, willing the numbers counting down to his Iron Man Suits arrival to speed up.

  
_2:00_

_1:59_

_1:58_

  
“And then you’ll let us go?” The Billionaire asks, flinching as a weapon swings a hair-length away from his face.

  
The Leader just nods, jaw clenching and his red stained bat getting moved from large hand to hand. His eyes suddenly light up, the melted steel narrowing onto Peter’s still crying form as the boy tries in vain to get a hold of himself.

  
“You have my word.”

  
Tony doesn’t look very convinced, but he reaches into his pocket, throwing the brown wallet at the vile man’s feet as The Leader’s goons let out howls of laughter. Forcing away a shiver, Tony adjusts Peter in his arms, looking down for just a quick second to kiss the top of his son’s head.

  
That’s the exact second The Leader strikes.

  
His bat smacks Tony across the face, the sound hollow. The genius’s head snaps to the side, his vision blurring and blood welting from a gash above his eye. He goes down with a groan, his body hitting the ground with a thump as all the air is forced from his lungs. Peter goes down with him, his small bony cushioned by Tony’s and his shout of alarm quickly turning to terror as The Leader snatches him up, wrapping his meaty arms around the young boy’s throat and glaring down at the Billionaire on the ground with glowing gray eyes.

  
Tony coughs, arms straining as he lifts himself off the ground, his whole body burning and his head still gushing blood down his cheek. He gives a low growl, struggling like an animal as two of the smaller men grab ahold of him.

  
“Let him go, you mother fucking bastard!” Tony shouts, spit flying from his mouth and dotting the pavement in red specs. “You said you only wanted money!”

  
The Leader just giggles, tightening his hold on Peter’s neck and cooing at the young Stark’s pathetic and weak struggles. Peter sobs silently, holding one small and trembling hand out in Tony’s direction and the genius feels his heart break.

  
“ _Wrong_! See, that’s where you’re wrong Mr. Stark!” The Leader’s voice is filled with triumph, the two goons holding Tony down squirming at the energy radiating off of their leader. “I didn’t just ask you for money, oh no, I asked you for _everything you’ve got._ ”

  
Tony feels bile climb up his throat, heart shuddering in his chest even as he claws at the men holding him down, biting and kicking against their combined strength and listens as Peter seems to be doing the same.

  
“Daddy! Help me, Daddy! Da—“ His shouts of fear are cut off, a high shriek of agony bubbling up from his stomach as the man hits him with his bat.

  
Tony sees red, his breath puffing out like an enraged bull as he shakes the men off him with enough force to send them flying. He is trembling in pure rage, the Arc Reactor glowing bright under his shirt as he pulls himself up to his feet, stumbling only once as his ribs flare up.

  
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” He hisses, nearly screaming in frustration when the two men grab him once again.

  
“Trust me, I think I do.”

  
The Leader crackles, tilting Peter’s face back and brushes each of the young boy’s tears with a dirty thumb, digging his fingers in so hard it leaves behind red welts. The young Stark continues to cry silently, his thin shoulders jumping with each choked sob and his mouth twisted in pain.

  
“I’m going to put you to good use, little boy.” The Leader whispers, brushing Peter’s hair back with his free hand and ignores the moan of disgust that results. “People can’t resist a beautiful little thing like you.”

  
That’s when the Suit finally zooms in.

  
The glove appears first, it’s gold and red fingers bright in the darkness of the ally. It flies into Tony’s hand with a snap, encasing his fingers and the palm glowing a bright blue that creates twisted shadows. Tony holds it up, facing it toward the bastard hold his child and glares hard at the man. The rest of the Suit arrives then, encasing his body and making the air steam with the heat of the metal and his unfiltered rage.

  
It takes him about three seconds to shoot the men holding him, their chests smoking with a bloody hole and their bodies falling to the ground.

  
“No,” The genius sneers, the faceplate finally snapping around his head. “You don’t know who you are dealing with you sick bastard. Now get the _fuck_ away from my son!”

  
The last thing Tony sees before his vision is bathed in red is the look of shocked horror filling The Leader’s face, his gray eyes reflecting the blue light and his face finally stretching into an accepting, bitter smile.

  
By the time Tony is finished with him, there is barely anything for the Police to carry off, the ground blackened and stained beneath the smoldering bones.

  
Once all of the mess with the witness statements and getting him and Peter checked out, Tony wordlessly begins to fly them back to the Tower. His son clings to him, body still shaking in the aftershocks and his face puffy from crying. The Billionaire just holds him closer, pressing his faceplate against his little boy’s forehead and lets the tension from the night melt off.

  
And Peter, well Peter just curls up closer to his father, feeling safe and protected and loved.

  
“How much longer until we’re home Daddy?” He asks, closing his eyes and listening to the wind in his ears.

  
Tony, ignoring the throbbing of his ribs and head, lifts his child higher into his free arm, the other propelling them faster toward the Tower, the city lights streaming down below.

  
“Just five minutes honey, just five minutes.”

  
And when they finally land on the pad, Peter’s adorable face relaxed in sleep and his grip loosened, Tony breathes out a sigh of relief, walking into their home and stripping the Iron Man Suit off his body. They are home now and safe and warm, and Tony can now relax fully, his own body now throbbing in exhaustion and released adrenaline.

  
Because a lot can happen in five minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!:) Kudos make my day and comments fuel my writing!;)


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